`I think I've hit it, Bessy,' was his first remark after a short silence.
`Riley's as likely a man as any to know o'some school: he's had schooling himself, an' goes about to all sorts o' places, arbitratin' and vallyin'
and that.And we shall have time to talk it over to-morrow night when the business is done.I want Tom to be such a sort o' man as Riley, you know - as can talk pretty nigh as well as if it was all wrote out for him, and knows a good lot o' words as don't mean much, so as you can't lay hold of'em i' law; and a good solid knowledge o' business too.'
`Well,' said Mrs Tulliver, `so far as talking proper and knowing everything, and walking with a bend in his back and setting his hair up, I shouldn't mind the lad being brought up to that.But them fine-talking men from the big towns mostly wear the false shirt-fronts; they wear a frill till it's all a mess, and then hide it with a bib; I know Riley does.And then, if Tom's to go and live at Mudport, like Riley, he'll have a house with a kitchen hardly big enough to turn in, an' niver get a fresh egg for his breakfast, an'sleep up three pair o' stairs - or four, for what I know - an'be burnt to death before he gets down.'
`No, no,' said Mr Tulliver, `I've no thoughts of his going to Mudport:
I mean him to set up his office at St Ogg's close by us, an' live at home.
But,' continued Mr Tulliver after a pause, `what I'm a bit afraid on is, as Tom hasn't got the right sort o' brians for a smart fellow.I doubt he's a bit slowish.He takes after your family, Bessy.'
`Yes, that he does,' said Mrs Tulliver, accepting the last proposition entirely on its own merits, `he's wonderful for liking a deal o' salt in his broth.That was my brother's way and my father's before him.'
`It seems a bit of a pity, though,' said Mr Tulliver, `as the lad should take after the mother's side istead o' the little wench.That's the worst on't wi' the crossing o' breeds: you can never justly calkilate what'll come on't.The little un takes after my side, now: she's twice as 'cute as Tom.Too 'cute for a woman, I'm afraid,' continued Mr Tulliver, turning his head dubiously first on one side and then on the other.`It's no mischief much while she's a little un, but an over 'cute woman's no better nor a long-tailed sheep - she'll fetch none the bigger price for that.'
`Yes, it is a mischief while she's a little un, Mr Tulliver, for it all runs to naughtiness.How to keep her in a clean pinafore two hours together passes my cunning.An' now you put me i' mind,' continued Mrs Tulliver, rising and going to the window, `I don't know where she is now, an'it's pretty nigh tea-time.Ah, I thought so - wanderin' up an'
down by the water, like a wild thing: she'll tumble in same day.'
Mrs Tulliver rapped the window sharply, beckoned, and shook her head, - a process which she repeated more than once before she returned to her chair.
`You talk o' 'cuteness, Mr Tulliver,' she observed as she sat down, `but I'm sure the child's half a idiot i' some things, for if I send her up-stairs to fetch anything she forgets what she's gone for, an' perhaps 'ull sit down on the floor i' the sunshine an' plait her hair an' sing to herself like a Bedlam creatur', all the while I'm waiting for her down-stairs.
